


You Were A Landscape In My Dream

by JeanieNitro



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Wing Grooming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:13:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22991527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JeanieNitro/pseuds/JeanieNitro
Summary: Got a prompt for fluffy hurt/comfort wing grooming. This is what came out.Crowley has a nightmare and needs to reassure himself his angel still has wings.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 23
Kudos: 194





	You Were A Landscape In My Dream

Crowley wakes up shaking, literally. His whole body is shuddering, trembling in the aftershocks of his nightmare. In his ears he could still hear the sound of Aziraphale’s screams as his wings had burned, falling and Falling through the endless void, while Crowley desperately tried to catch him, his fingertips just out of reach. The anguished look on Aziraphale’s face as his broken wings had snapped and he’d slipped away for good seemed burned into his retinas.

His heart is thudding in his ears, a frantic drumbeat warning. He tries to take a deep breath to calm it, but it only comes out shaky and tearful instead. He crunches his eyes shut and tries to will the tears away.

A gentle hand lands on his side. “My dear?” Aziraphale says hesitantly.

Crowley rolls towards his angel but doesn’t open his eyes.

“My dear, what is it? Did you have another nightmare?”

Crowley nods, his breath still shaky.

“What do you need?”

Crowley swallows, trying to figure out what might help. “Can … can I see your wings, angel?” he whispers, his voice cracking.

Aziraphale’s face softens even further, if that’s possible. “Of course, my love,” he says. He takes a moment to settle himself in a better position on the bed, and with a soft whoosh, the two of them are wrapped in a protective tent of white feathers, lit from outside with the soft glow of the bedside lamp.

Crowley shuffles himself into a sitting position and reaches out to touch one of the feathers closest to him. It’s firm, white, entirely unblemished and unbroken. He runs his finger down the spine of it, then down the barbs, stroking it gently. Some of the quaking sinks out of his shoulders. He’s moving faster now, using both hands to run up and down every feather he can reach, still being as gentle as possible.

“Here,” Aziraphale says, and lays down on his stomach. The wing Crowley had been running his hands on is now laying across his lap like a blanket, and Crowley sinks his fingers into the feathers with a contented sigh. Aziraphale’s wings aren’t in need of a full grooming, really, since they did that together only just last week, but the feeling of the barbs on the skin of his fingers is so satisfying. He gives the skin beneath the feathers a little scritch, and Aziraphale sighs as well. Crowley feels better about these frantic late night impositions if he can at least do something to return the favor, so he sets to work massaging Aziraphale’s wings, his heart growing lighter with every contented noise his angel makes.

Finally, the pounding in his chest subsides and his hands are steady again. “Thanks,” he says lowly, unable to properly voice his appreciation for Aziraphale’s loving indulgences.

“No, thank _you_ , my dear,” Aziraphale says, sitting up. “That was quite lovely. You want to talk about it?”

“No, I think I’m good now,” Crowley says, letting out a deep sigh. “It’s nothing new. I just – needed to see you. Make sure you were alright.”

“Well, I am indeed perfectly alright. Better, even. Are you going to sleep more?”

“Dunno,” Crowley says. He doesn’t want to dream again but he’s certainly not ready to leave the bed, especially not with how dark it still is outside.

“Well, why don’t you come over here and snuggle with me then?” Aziraphale says, settling into his “book reading” position and raising his arm.

Crowley scoffs at the word “snuggle” but crawls over anyways, lying his head on Aziraphale’s lap. His angel promptly starts stroking his hand through Crowley’s hair and it’s so comforting that Crowley feels his eyes begin to droop again almost immediately.

As he slips once again into sleep, he feels a gentle kiss on his temple and hears Aziraphale whisper “dream of whatever you like best, my love.”  
His lips twitch into a small smile and he lets himself drift back into sleep, safe in his angel’s arms.


End file.
